


Hetalia: Lost Memories

by insomnia_xxr



Category: HetaOni, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Disasters, Fairies, OC, Other, World Meeting (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-09-18 12:29:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomnia_xxr/pseuds/insomnia_xxr
Summary: (Story originally created in 2014, based off a written roleplay between me and an old friend in 2013. It's been heavily edited since then, so hopefully it isn't cringey anymore.The roleplay is based off of HetaOni, the original Ao Oni, and Hetalia World Series/Axis Powers. WARNING: this story contains OCs, mostly created by me, the rest created by an old friend named Lexi, now known as Lukas.)England wakes up from a terrible nightmare and soon after receives a phone call from America, who speaks of ill news. America calls upon a world meeting to discuss the matter, which happens to be an odd "hurricane" in the North Atlantic. As the nations discuss the properties of the "storm"--the whispers and darkness emanating from the winds--France recognizes where the "hurricane" originated from: an island nation veiled in mystery. England suggests that they all attempt to reach the island to investigate, and after arguing with France, they reluctantly agree to set sail. The events that occur on their ocean-bound journey is only the beginning of the end...





	1. Chapter 1

Before him was a being of pure darkness, a once humanoid shape that was bent and broken. It used its disfigured claws and its beast-like legs to balance its disgusting body. Through the smoke and fog two white eyes and wicked teeth shone brightly. It chuckled with two distinct voices that struggled with each other to be heard: one a shrill, feminine voice and the other monstrously low.  
“Who are you?” He asked after studying the thing so dangerously close to him.  
“Huh? Can’t you see that it’s me?” as it responded with another question, it transformed into a beautiful girl with a big red ribbon in her lengthy blonde ponytail.  
“No, I don’t recognize you at all,” he said.  
In anger, the young woman quickly transformed back into the beast. “I see,” it said before its scream shook the void: “What kind of father are you?!”  
The man woke up with a start to his rotary phone ringing, sweat dripping down his brow. He steadied his breathing. What was that about? he wondered. He never had a nightmare like that before. The phone rang again. The shrill, ear-piercing ring of the phone reminded him of the voice of the monster in his dream, and it made him shudder.  
“I’ll be right there,” he mumbled. He kicked off the blanket, swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood by the nightstand, and reached down to pick up the phone.  
“Hello—”  
He was interrupted by his comrade shouting over the line. “—Hey! Dude! You gotta get over here right now!”  
His window curtains shifted as the man over the phone yelled. The man on the listening end assumed that his voice was so loud it shook the curtains. He shrugged and continued on with the conversation.  
“America? Where are you?”  
“In the meeting hall!”  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I can’t explain it over the phone,” America said in a quieter voice.  
“Why not?”  
“I-It’s just really long and... J-Just get over here!”  
“Ok,” the man said, hanging up. “I suppose I should get dressed—”  
Suddenly, the winged shadow that crept through the window and slid behind him clenched its claws on the man’s shoulders. It leaned in close with its glowing red eyes and equally-hued outstretched smile and whispered, “Be prepared to face your past…”  
With the demon’s touch, its dark symbol merged itself with the man’s pupils and his vision went black.  
“Begone, spawn of Satan!” a woman cried from across the room.  
The shadow looked in the voice’s direction only to see a bible fly towards it. It disappeared before the book made contact with her, and it instead hit the man in the head.  
The woman stood motionless in surprise, with her arms still in throwing position. After realizing what had happened, she began to snicker, then broke out in laughter. The woman’s name is LOSS, which stands for “Land of the Snowy Skies”. Even though she is not related to the man, she stays with him a lot at his house. She’s basically become the forever-roommate that steals your stuff and never gives anything in return, but he already accepted this fate a long time ago. She rubbed the back of her raven-haired head.  
“Pfft, ha! Did I hit you instead of that thing? Whoops, my bad!”  
Her laughter was cut short when the man grabbed her by her light blue scarf and roughly choked her with it. “Listen now, you waste of space. I’m tired of you being here all the time. Provide for yourself, won’t you? As for that thing you hit me with, I don’t think that’s a good way for thanking me for everything I do for you,” he said through gritted teeth.  
“L-Let me go!” she wheezed.  
“Make me,” he growled, pulling tighter.  
LOSS struggled to break herself free from the man’s grip. She wrestled with his hands, but when that didn’t work, she tried shoving him away with all her might. She managed to successfully do so right before she would have lost consciousness.  
As the color slowly returned to LOSS’s frightened face, the man regained control over himself. “LOSS?” he asked as if nothing had just happened. “What’s wrong? Lose your breath from climbing up the stairs?” He chuckled at his own poorly-timed joke.  
“You asshole! How can you say that knowing you just choked me?”  
“Choked? What are you talking about?”  
“I was trying to get rid of that thing that was behind you and then you grabbed me by my scarf and—” she began to weep. “You know what, nevermind. Come downstairs when you’re ready and we’ll head out to the meeting hall,” she said somberly. She dragged her feet as she left the room and wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her tan coat.  
The man stood still, attempting to understand LOSS’s odd behavior. Choked? He thought. When did I choke her?  
Suddenly, he remembered the feeling of his shoulders being touched by some unknown entity. He didn’t see the creature’s face, but only its hands. Its nails were sharp and its fingers dark and cold as night, with smoke emanating from the tips of them. Was that the thing LOSS was talking about?  
As he searched through his closet for his uniform, the man’s head was buzzing with questions. When did this happen? Why did that happen? Was I possessed when it touched me? And its voice… What did it tell me? As he pulled out his uniform, which was neatly hung on a rack, he remembered, but wasn’t quite sure what the shadow meant by it.  
The man removed his white-striped light blue pajamas and donned his green uniform. He sighed, and walked down the stairs and into the dining area of his house.  
“England,” LOSS said with a touch of anger, standing by the stove moving eggs from a pan onto a plate. “You’re lucky I still like you after all of that. If not for me, you wouldn’t be having a NICE friend like me cooking you a NICE breakfast every. Single. Day.” She forcefully slid the dish to him. There was bacon on the plate along with the eggs, and the food created a frowning face.  
England stared at the meal before him, then back to LOSS. “I—" he stopped himself. He thought that an apology would seem insincere at this point in time, so he refrained from speaking about the gigantic elephant in the room. “Nevermind,” he mumbled.  
“Eat up,” LOSS said, carelessly preparing her own plate, “we’re already running behind.” 

 

Cautiously creaking the door open, and with LOSS behind him, England stepped into the World Meeting Room. “America?”  
“About time you showed up!” America called from near the chalk board on the far side of the room, which had the world map sloppily drawn on it.  
“We were eating breakfast,” LOSS said, sitting down with England beside her. As he sat, she scooched her chair away a few inches. England sighed.  
“We can finally start!” America said to everybody in the room, who were as follows: Prussia, Germany, Japan, Italy, Romano, China, France, Russia, Canada, and of course, England and LOSS.  
“So, like, I was flying around in my super sweet airplane and whatnot, when I saw this HUUUUUUGE storm! Well, it might be a storm, I dunno. It didn’t show up on any radar that I had on me! It was black and I heard static and gibberish coming through my headset. The noises probably came from other awesome pilots trying to talk to me but the timing was sure as hell creepy!” He whipped out a long wooden stick and dramatically smacked the board with the tip of it. “It was right here,” he said pointing to a chaotically drawn circle a little above the middle of a large, empty space, which was assumed to be the Atlantic Ocean.  
France carefully studied the location. “Wait just a minute, America,” he said. He tilted his head and squinted, and after a brief pause his eyes shot open. “I…I think I know that location…”  
“What?!”  
“That storm surrounds an island… a nation I once tried to conquer long ago,” France began.  
“Of course that would be the first thing you would try to do to a nation,” LOSS said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. Normally, it would be England saying this, but he was more concerned with the fact that there was a nation that lived near him that he had never heard of. “What’s the name?” he asked.  
France could barely say the name without shaking in fear. His face darkened as he revealed the name of the mysterious country, “Windsong.”  
DUN. DUN. DUUUUUUUN.  
“Why are you being so dramatic?” China asked.  
“You know he’s always dramatic,” Germany answered.  
“I’m not being dramatic!” he shouted abruptly. “I am truly terrified of her!”  
“Her?”  
“Windsong,” he whispered.  
“What did she do that made you so scared? Actually, what did YOU do to provoke her?” England asked.  
“See, that’s the thing,” France said as he searched through his memories.  
“Long ago, when I was in my conquering phase, I took civilians hostage in order to lure out the nation from her mansion and kill her, then take her land. It’s awful, I know. One of the civilians I captured—an orphan—just so happened to be very close to Windsong, and she came out of her mansion screaming. My men were alarmed but that didn’t stop them from luring her into our trap. My men seized her near the entrance of the orphanage, where I held the orphan girl captive. The other civilians, who we killed, did not mean anything to Windsong; however, that girl… I did not realize the extent of her feelings towards her. She screamed again, with tears streaming down her face, and my men dropped to the floor, dead. I fell too, obviously I didn’t die, but I was in a great amount of pain. ‘Don’t you dare come here again, or else’, she said. After that, she carried the girl away…  
“And that was the last time I saw her,” France finished.  
Everyone was in an uproar about his appalling story, except Russia, who seemed to like Windsong.  
“France… We may have to visit her again,” England said.  
“What?! But she will kill me if she sees me!” France cried.  
“We have to see what’s going on with that ‘storm’. We’re all going, and that’s final.”  
“Oh, are we leaving now?” Romano asked. “Wake up, Veneziano, we’re leaving,” he said, shaking his twin brother, who was fast asleep in the chair next to him.  
“Yay! Adventure!” Italy said, before passing out again.  
“Ugh.”

 

A small black bird flies through the sky, humming a lullaby. Suddenly, she hears her master talking to herself on the sandy beach below.  
“They’re coming… I can sense it… Eleven nations…Eleven new friends to play with.”  
She giggled, then broke out in maniacal laughter.  
“Mum?” said the bird, landing on her armored shoulder. “Mum!”  
The nation snapped out of it from hearing the little bird’s voice. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Did I scare you?”  
“Uhhuh,” the bird mumbled, lowering her head.  
“I’m so sorry, come here.” The bird hopped from the nation’s shoulder into her open, black-gloved palms. “I’m fine, see?” She smiled and gave the bird a little kiss on her forehead. “No need to worry about me.”  
“Ok, but why were you laughin’?” the bird asked.  
“Oh, that,” the nation sighed. “Do you remember me telling you that some nations are coming to visit?”  
“Yep.”  
“Well, they’re on their way…”  
“Really?” the bird chirped. “Do you think they’re friendly?”  
“Y-Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t they be? If you don’t believe me, why don’t you go and see?”  
“Really? Alright then, I’ll give them a warm welcome!” the bird flapped her wings and flew off. “See you later, Mum! Be safe! Love you!”  
“Love you too!” she called, waving her arm. Then, she lowered her hand, feeling a change within herself sparking up again. “Love you…too..” she mumbled. “…………………………………..Why did you listen to me,” she whispered to nobody. She fell to her knees, a single tear escaping from her eye.  
“Do you remember what I told you?”  
There was no response.  
“When they come, she goes.”  
Again, no response.  
“Too depressed to say anything? Well then, I suppose it’s my turn to play.”  
The nation stood up slowly and stretched out her arm in front of her. She recited a spell under her breath and her hand began to emit dark purple smoke.  
“Let’s begin,” she said.


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone in the meeting hall raced to pack essentials for their journey. They stored foodstuffs and spare uniforms in crates, then they each moved one to two crates from a dock onto England's ship. The nations determined this to be the best form of travel, as they feared their planes would malfunction in the storm. Within an hour, most of the crates have been loaded onto the ship, with Italy, Romano, China, and Germany left to transfer the rest of them.  
Italy stared at the single box he was holding, tears forming in his eyes. It was a bit too heavy for him, and he struggled to walk to the end of the dock with it. China, walking at a faster pace, with two boxes tucked under his arms, approached Italy.  
“Do you need help?” China asked.  
“No,” he lied. “I can do it”, he said softly, with his face red and his breathing heavy.  
“If you say so,” China shrugged as he continued on his way.  
Italy’s arms and legs shook as he stepped forward, and Germany, passing by to help Romano get the rest of the crates, noticed.  
“Italy,” Germany addressed, “Let me help you carry that.”  
“No,” Italy said again, “I can do it, I really can.” He tried lifting the box above his head to demonstrate his strength, but his arms wobbled so roughly that he had to quickly put it down.  
“Italy, I know you can; you just seem to be struggling right now,” Germany said patiently.  
“I’m not, I promise. Just let me do it. Please.”  
Germany paused and his expression softened as Italy forced a weak smile. “Very well. Call me if you end up needing me.”  
“Ok.”  
Germany smiled at him as he held two bigger crates over his head, and then Italy watched him make his way to the boat.  
Italy felt pain in his arms, but mostly in his chest. He wished he could be strong like Germany, but he simply wasn’t.  
Romano watched this all happen, and could feel his twin brother’s sorrow. He approached Italy, and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
“Veneziano, please don’t be upset. We’re just trying to help you,” Romano said.  
“I know, but I want to try to be strong like you guys.”  
“You ARE strong, Veneziano. But right now, you look like you’re going to shit yourself trying to carry that.”  
Italy glanced to the boat. “Yeah, I—”. He stopped himself when he saw a smoky tendril pass by him and headed towards Germany. “AH!” He turned back to Romano and shoved the box into his hands. “Take this! Germany is in danger!”  
Romano looked around, wondering what could possibly harm Germany on a beautiful day like today, but then he saw the smoke. “What the fuck is that?!”  
Without delay, Italy sprinted towards Germany. “Germany, look out!”  
“What?” he said, slowly turning around.  
Just before the tendril reached Germany, Italy tackled him, and the smoke struck him in the back and entered his body. Italy’s eyes clouded with darkness, and with a sigh, he fell limp.  
Romano rushed to his brother, with the crate still in his hands. When he got to Italy, he set the box down and moved his twin off of Germany.  
“Veneziano,” he cried, “Veneziano, wake up!” He raised his open palm up, ready to slap his brother, tears forming in his eyes.  
“Don’t,” Germany grasped Romano’s hand. “I think he’s waking up.”  
As if on cue, Italy regained consciousness, and his eyes were clear; however, something wasn’t quite right about him.  
He stared blankly at Romano and Germany, and breathed softly. “Romano, Germany, I don’t feel so good.”  
“I know,” Romano said gently, “We’ll get you on the boat, make sure you’re safe and comfortable, and then we’ll come back for the rest of the crates and we’ll be on our way, okay?”  
“Okay,” Italy whispered.   
“Come on, potatohead, let’s go.” Romano said, lifting up the right side of his brother. Germany nodded firmly, taking the left.  
As they boarded the ship, everyone stared curiously at them.   
England briskly approached them first. “What happened to Italy?”  
“We’ll explain the situation later,” Germany said. “Right now, we have to let him rest.”  
“Oh, yes, sure. There’s cabins right over there,” England said, pointing.  
“Thank you.”  
Romano and Germany laid Italy down gently, who was now breaking into a fever and moving about, albeit weakly.  
The two nations left the room and asked to speak with England privately. Romano explained in hushed whispers what happened, and said that England might be the one who would know about what it could be.  
“I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I’ll look into it, don’t worry.” England reassured them.  
“Thank you. Can you watch him while we get the rest of the crates?”  
“Sure.”  
As the two nations left, England addressed the rest of the nations on the boat, wondering what the group was talking about.   
“Don’t worry, guys, Italy’s just sick. I’ll keep an eye on him. You all can continue doing whatever you wish,” England said nervously.   
As he approached the cabin door, England could hear Italy talking to himself.  
“What the…?”  
The door creaked as he cautiously opened it, and before him was Italy, rocking back and forth, his legs tucked in and wrapped underneath his arms, facing the wall.  
“Italy?” England called, slowly approaching the figure. He leaned down and reached his shaky hand out to touch him, when suddenly, Italy turned around and snarled.  
“Shit!”  
Italy’s eyes were bulging and completely black, his skin a pale grey, his ears pointed, and his mouth open and revealing sharp, uneven teeth.  
England stumbled to his feet as he ran out of the cabin. “EVERYONE! GET AWAY!”  
“What?”  
Just then, Italy, hunched over with his new claws extended, burst out of the cabin. He licked his new teeth and scanned the ship for a target. At this point, Romano and Germany were back on the boat, and were staring at Italy in horror, along with everyone else. Germany, as was he was supposed to be the original victim, was the ideal prey.  
Italy snarled then lunged at Germany, only to be blocked by Romano. Italy clung to him, his claws digging into his brother’s shoulders. As the demonic Italy toppled him and prepared to bite Romano, he began to vaporize until he completely faded away.  
Romano was left on the floor in shock. “What the fuck?” he said in between shallow breaths.  
Prussia and Germany helped him up. “Are you hurt?” Prussia asked.  
“No, not really. He just scratched me, that’s all,” Romano replied.  
“Okay, hopefully it’s not contagious,” Germany said.  
“This has to be Windsong’s doing,” France said.  
“Why would she attack us now, if she could have done so centuries ago?” England asked.  
“Maybe she knows we’re coming,” France said. “Maybe she waited until she had some new ‘friends’ to play with…”


End file.
